Safe And Sound
by ttate-langdon
Summary: "You wouldn't." The red haired boy shakes his head. His faced is covered in blood and dirt. "There's nothing I wouldn't do anymore"" She screams at him, a note of hysteria in her voice. The Capitol have ruined them. They are the Capitol's chess pieces.


**short little oneshot i came up with after seeing the hunger games. the movie was perfect, and i loved it to bits.****  
><strong>**  
><strong>**stuff you need to know:****  
><strong>**- arena set in the ruins of an abandoned city.****  
><strong>**- ruaridh is pronounced 'roor-ee'****  
><strong>**- aleka is pronounced 'ah-le-ka'****  
><strong>**  
><strong>**without further ado, let the 73rd hunger games begin! and may the odds be ever in your favour :)****  
><strong>**  
><strong>**-**

My breathing stops. Everything is silent. My eyes scan the various weapons and backpacks, aware that I could be blown up in seconds if I dare to step off my metal plate too early.

Should I go with Johanna's tactic and grab a weapon? She even advised to get involved in the bloodbath, if I could. I look at my fellow tribute, River, who has his eyes set determinedly on a neon orange backpack. He doesn't look back at me. He doesn't acknowledge me. He stays focused on his plan.

10... 9... 8... 7...

Bile starts to rise in my throat. I panic, trying to keep my short and laboured breaths quiet. I worry that they think I'm hyperventilating. By 'they' I mean the other tributes. They are the enemies.

They already see me as a weakling. Although Johanna encouraged that tactic, it pisses me off. She acted weak throughout her games, turning vicious when there were few tributes left. They were caught off guard and Johanna was crowned winner of the 71st annual Hunger Games. This won't work for me. I _am_ weak. I tripped and fell getting in and out of the chariots. I shook and stammered at the interviews. I got a score of three. A pathetic fucking score of three. A score of three that decides whether I live or not.

6... 5...4...

I can feel sweat plastering my forehead. My hands shake as I try and keep still.

3...

Go for the axe.

2...

Or shall I run to safety?

1...

All twenty four tributes take off in a run. Flashes of people run past me as I try to move my feet. And I do, eventually, the too large boots scraping my heels. I can hear screams and slicing of flesh behind me, and I dare not look back.

The girl from District Twelve stands in front of me, and I watch as she grabs a backpack. She looks up at me, doe eyed, and coughs. I feel a warm spurt of liquid on my face. I reach up, touching the blood she has just spat on me. She topples to the ground in a heap, knife sticking out of her back.

I see the killer. Larsson, the girl from District Two, who is carrying a stash of knifes, throwing them expertly in different directions. She runs over, pulling the knife out of twelve's back and pulling an orange backpack from the dead girl's grip. The same backpack that River was going for. I fear for the worst of my district partner.

I realise then, that I have stopped moving. Right in the middle of the cornucopia.

"_Idiot!"_ I scream at myself, nimble and sweaty arms grabbing the axe that I was looking for. I turn, intending to make a run to the ruins but instead I crash into something.

At first I think I have fallen against the side of the cornucopia. But no, that's silly, because I am standing in front of it. The thing I have bumped into is warm, large and I'm clutching at cloth to stop myself from going down.

I look up and terror strikes through me, electrifying my finger tips and widening my eyes.

It's the monstrous boy from District Two.

My first instinct is to run, and I do. My feet take me backwards, farther away from him. He smirks, and I can see the predator like look in his eyes. His handsome features twisting into a malicious grin, I feel myself stumble backwards. I have tripped over the body of the girl from District Twelve.

Landing on my bottom, I look from his face to the weapon in his hand. A knife. A small knife that will be tearing through my body soon.

I shut my eyes tight. "P-Please..." I choke the words out, throat dry. Faced with death and I beg. I feel pathetic. Hot tears gather under my eyelids.

I open my eyes after a few seconds. But he is still towering over me, large muscles seeming inhuman.

"Boo." He taunts, voice almost a whisper.

I am no idiot. I can see the dead bodies strewn all over the battle zone. And if I don't move soon, I'll become one of them.

I take his one word as an opportunity to run, and run I do.

Hard and fast, trying to get closer to the maze of ruins. But I can tell he is following. He won't let go of a kill. My mind is racing too hard to concentrate on anything but the uncomfortable rubbing of my boots. I reach the rubble, still running.

Running and running and never looking back. My feet pounding against the dirt floor, my arms swinging desperately at my sides.

Deeper into the city we go, him chasing me like a pig for slaughter. I have no chance. I am dead. Dead, dead, dead. He has a knife and I have an axe. But even if he didn't have a weapon, he could snap my neck with his bare hands effortlessly.

I realise that he is a Career. This means, the other Careers will be chasing after me too.

When the games start, the Careers usually get together and form a team, killing and foraging in a pack. And then, when the going gets tough, the Careers get going. Meaning that they turn on each other in the last day or two of the games.

My theory proves right when I hear more noises coming from behind me. More footsteps. I hear the whooping and hollering. To Careers? Hunting me down is great fun.

I can hear myself whimper. My boots are cutting into them, I can feel them rubbing against bare flesh and I moan. The pain is becoming unbearable.

I cry out with every step, and I can feel myself slowing down. The axe falls from my grip, but I dare not pick it up or even look behind me. The blur of buildings and rubble whirling past me is slowing down and I am aware that they are right behind me.

I hear laughing and giggling at my weakness. I hear a pair of footsteps getting harder, thumping against the dirt. Someone jumps on my back. I topple to the ground with a thud.

"Kill her, Larsson!" I hear someone scream.

Half my face is being pushed into the dirt. I squirm against my attacker, panicking.

Larsson rolls me over. I am faced with her grinning eyes as she put a leg on either side of my torso, pinning me down. I see one of her knifes in front of my face.

I see the others, looking down at me. Tributes from District One, Sparkle and Pearl, the boy from District Four and the boy who was chasing me. Ruaridh. District Two. He got a ten, I remember bitterly. He is also holding the axe that I dropped.

"Look at me when I speak to you!" The girl on top of me screams, interrupting my thoughts. My eyes snap up to her. She has blue eyes that are too far apart, shiny black hair, and freckles sprinkled across her nose. She must be at least two years younger than me.

"Just kill her" Pearl, the boy from one, shouts.

Gee, thanks.

I can hear her press the blade against my throat before I can feel it, the sound of it scraping against my tan skin. I cringe when I hear it. I whimper, even. The air stings my rough skin, and then I feel the cool blade against my throat, digging into me.

"Please." I beg again. She laughs a low chuckle, and I can feel the blade digging into my skin harder.

My nails dig into the debris under me. I breathe through my nose because I can feel myself about to be sick. I shut my eyes tight, waiting for the end.

"We should keep her." I hear a voice say.

"What? Why? Just kill her!" I hear Sparkle shriek.

"She's good at survival. Those stations at training where the only one she was good at." The boy says. I guess that it belongs to Ruaridh. "I don't think any of strongly contribute brains to this alliance." He adds sarcastically.

I can tell this is true. Careers are trained to fight to the death. They are skilled in killing and armoury, not starting fires and finding shelter.

"That's why we have Clogs." Pearl says, as he gestures to the boy from four.

"I'm not as good as her." Clogs interjects. "The poisonous food and the ropes and stuff."

I slowly open my eyes, thankful for Clogs' words, because I know he has just saved me. He has a way with words. I noticed it at the interviews. But Larsson's blue eyes are still staring at me, her blade still digging into my throat.

"So, we kill her?" She asks hopefully.

"No." Ruaridh finalises.

"What District is she?" Sparkle asks. What a stupid question. I'm sure she was the one that laughed in my face when River and I were dressed as trees.

"District Seven." Pearl says. "She only got three."

I see Sparkle roll her eyes, tossing her fishtail braid to one side. "We don't need a lumberjack to join Careers."

"She'll get us killed." Larsson snarls from above me.

"Shut up." Ruaridh snaps harshly at them. "Nothing can kill us. If she even thinks about it or if she jeopardizes us in anyway, she'll get her neck snapped."

Larsson and Sparkle fall silent. I guess that Ruaridh had taken position as leader of the group already, and I ccan defiantly tell why he wants some brain power in the team.

Larsson gets off of me, and pulls me up by the arm. I wince, feeling the open flesh at my heels rubbing against my boots again. Pearl grabs my other arm. As if I was going to run away now.

"What's your name?" Sparkle asks, green eyes glistening with annoyance.

"Aleka." I croak quietly. "Aleka." I say more confidently, even though I'm looking at my feet.

"We can do this two ways." Pearl starts, as if talking to a child.

"You can join our alliance." Sparkle continues.

"Or we can kill you." Ruaridh finishes.

I nod, shrugging my arms away from Larsson and Pearl. Attempting to wipe the dirt and dried blood from my face, I agree to join the Careers.


End file.
